


Soul Meets Body

by eugyne (AreteNike)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: /shrug emoji, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M, Psychopomp AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22472053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreteNike/pseuds/eugyne
Summary: Keith is not a ghost. He'd have to have been alive for that.What he is is a guide--visible only to the nearly born and newly dead. But Shiro is alive, and has been for a while now, and he can see Keith anyway.Or: in which Keith and Hunk are psychopomps, Kosmo is a church grim, Allura is a medium, Lance is a water spirit, Pidge and Matt are ghost hunters, Lotor is a ghost, and Shiro is a mystery none of them can solve.**This fic is abandoned!!**
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Kudos: 8





	Soul Meets Body

**Author's Note:**

> much as i LOVED this idea there was just....... no way i was ever gonna finish this. i am just beyond done with voltron and i dont foresee ever getting back in the right headspace for fanfic for it. so... im posting this unfinished, because it was supposed to be for the sheith big bang and my artist drew some lovely art for it ([check it out here!](https://twitter.com/zekwing/status/1213694319909122049)), but its just never gonna be done. this'll probably be the last you see of me...

It's a warm, sunny day in autumn; the sparrows are wheeling above the trees, the sidewalks are packed with pedestrians and tourists enjoying the weather, and Keith has a baby in his arms.

He makes his way through the crowds on the sidewalk without much care; the people he brushes into don't notice, or his job would be much more difficult. The baby gurgles now and then, tucked against Keith's shoulder, but is otherwise quiet. He won't be, shortly, if most of the other babies Keith has brought into the world like this are any indication; being born seems to be a pretty traumatic experience.

Keith doesn't usually stick around long enough to watch, though. It's pretty much only when he has to take the baby back soon after--when something goes wrong. But this little guy has a good forty years or so ahead of him before Keith has to come back.

Keith steps off the sidewalk and phases through the front door of a little row house. Up the stairs, then, to the second floor, and down the hall, to a bedroom containing one very pregnant woman.

"It's time, little guy," Keith tells the baby quietly. He enters the room and walks right up to the woman, who's humming softly to herself, scrolling on a laptop with one hand while the other rests on her belly. And then he lets go.

The woman knows instantly--they always do. Her eyes widen in pain for a moment, and then when it subsides she grabs her phone and waddles off in a hurry, dialing as she goes. Keith heads out again.

He might be the more... stoic, of the two of them that serve this little town, but this is still his favorite part of the job. The part where he brings life into the world--the part where he isn't here to guide the dead out of it.

Plus, these souls are always too young to complain. Hunk always seems to get the ones that pass peacefully in their sleep; the ones Keith greets at death are usually old enough to understand, but young enough to think they ought to have more time, and they don't generally like it when he tells them they don't. 

He's got a death today, too--a mugging gone wrong, he'd guess, by the look of things when he gets there. Her body has been shoved behind a dumpster in an alley; there are scattered purse-things around but no purse, no wallet. He's seen this kind of thing plenty of times before; not often, and usually it's a tourist and not a local, but he's been here as long as there have been people on this island. He gets mostly drownings, sure, but even a quiet island town like this has its dark side.

The woman's soul is already standing there, looking morosely down at her body. It always takes a bit for them to process, so he waits nearby, until she finally looks up and sees him. She looks back down to her body, then up at him again.

"Are you a ghost too?" she asks hoarsely.

"Not exactly," says Keith. He approaches, hands in his pockets, casual; the last thing he wants is to alarm her. It never goes well. "I'm here to guide you to what's next."

"Oh," she says, which is typical. "...What's next?"

He shrugs. "Depends."

At least she seems to understand that's all the answer she's going to get (because Keith doesn't _know,_ really. It's only his job to get them there). She looks back at her body. She's in her late twenties--old enough to have gotten her life going, maybe.

"I don't think anyone's going to miss me," she says, which he hears a lot too, but usually from the suicides and overdoses, not the murders. 

"I doubt that," he says. He remembers bringing her into the world; she had a couple of siblings already, and they weren't souls of his, so they're bound to still be alive even if her parents aren't. They could be estranged, but she doesn't have no one.

"I should have just given him my money," she adds.

"Probably," Keith agrees easily.

She looks at him again. "Do I get to have unfinished business?"

"Not really, no." He gestures out towards the street. "You _can_ refuse my guidance, but that just means you'll have to find your own way to the afterlife. You won't be able to change anything here, either."

"So there's no point."

"Not unless you'd like to haunt this alley for the next hundred years, no."

"I guess not." She looks at her body again. "Am I... gonna be found? Is someone going to find me?"

"Eventually." It might be when the smell gets someone looking, but he's not going to tell her that.

"Hm." She takes another minute, and then she turns to him fully. "Okay."

"Ready?" He holds out a hand.

"I guess." She takes it, though, and he leads her out of the alley. The sparrows wheel through them as he walks her down the street.

They take it slow. The woman is looking around; she whispers a few goodbyes, gasps when someone walks right through her. They turn off onto a narrow, quiet suburban street, empty but for them and for a solitary man, walking towards them.

The man looks up, though, and makes eye contact with Keith. And holds it. And smiles and waves.

Keith glances around; there's really no one else on the street he could be looking at, but that's impossible. He's not nearly dead enough to see them--he's one of Keith's, sure, but he's got to have a decade left, minimum.

He's stumbled across people who could sense him, yes, but never anyone who could _see_ him.

But the woman is still with him, and Keith can't let her know anything's wrong here. The worst is when they panic. So he offers a tentative smile back, and that's enough for the man to turn his attention back to the sidewalk ahead of him. They pass without incident; up close there _is_ something off about him, but Keith would be hard-pressed to figure out what--his looks are unusual, too, but that isn't it--and this really isn't a good time.

He glances aside at the woman, who's focused on the houses across the street, murmuring to herself the names of the people who own them. He takes the moment to glance back, just to check.

The man is still there, walking down the empty street. There's no one else who he could possibly have been smiling at.

He's gotta tell Hunk about this when he gets back; maybe he'll have some idea what just happened. It's a small blessing the woman seems oblivious. And normally Keith would take a soul like hers around the town a little more, just to let her say goodbye, but if he's going to be running into living people who can see them maybe he should cut this short. So he walks her only a few more steps before calling to home.

The change is subtle, but immediately obvious nonetheless. The woman gasps; the streets are the same, the houses, the ocean just barely within sight, but everything's just a little bit different. The colors, the trees, the emptiness--there's no one there but them. It's quiet.

"Almost there," he tells her. She nods slowly, gaping at her surroundings.

He walks her with a little more purpose now; they're almost there, and the more he thinks about that man the more disturbed he gets. There are people who can see ghosts; there are people who can sense and even summon spirits like Keith. But to just see him, without even knowing what he is...

Hunk comes around the next corner and waves at him with one hand--the other is holding a baby, one he's about to bring into the world the way Keith just did.

"Find me later," Keith mouths at him, giving him a look. Hunk raises and eyebrow, but nods, and they each continue on their way. The woman looks curiously after him, then at Keith.

"We bring people into the world, too," he says. "In, and out."

"That's... kinda neat."

He chuckles uneasily. "Sure is."

It's not long before they reach the edge of town. Rather than the beach, though, there's a forest just across the border, deep and inviting. Light shines warmly through the trees, and birds chirp sweetly within. Keith lets go of the woman's hand.

"We're here," he says. 

She takes a step forward, looks back. "In... in there?"

He nods. "Whatever you face lies through those trees. You can't get lost anymore, so this is where I stop."

"It looks nice..." She's already fading. That's good; sometimes, even here, they fight it.

"It does," he agrees.

She smiles at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, and he even manages a smile in return. And then she steps into the forest, and fades with every step, until she's disappeared entirely. His smile drops.

"Fuck," he says, and jogs off towards the center of town.

* * *

Every place in the world where people live has a team of psychopomps to guide them. Some of the more crowded places have ones for every religion, for every age, even for time of day or lunar cycle. Here, it's just Keith and Hunk.

The division isn't strict, but, generally, Hunk gets the ones who live the longest, the sick, the natural deaths. Keith gets the younger, the violent deaths, the ones humans like to say died before their time. And between the two of them, the births and deaths in this town are easy enough for them to handle.

But there are thousands, millions of other psychopomps out there, and with that comes some amount of bureaucracy, and Keith has a feeling this issue is going to have to be reported to the guy in charge at some point, which is why he's pacing in front of the doorway to the rest of the realm they dwell in as he waits for Hunk. Ostensibly, it's the front door to the town hall, but what lies on the other side of the door is nothing like what exists in the real version of this town.

Soon enough, Hunk hurries into the square, wringing his hands; he makes a beeline for Keith, who stops pacing to wait for him.

"What is it? Did something happen?" Hunk asks as soon as he's close enough. "Was it a really nasty death? You know I don't like hearing about those--"

"No, it was a normal murder--that's not--someone saw me," Keith says.

Hunk blinks. "What?"

"Someone saw me. A living breathing human being. He didn't even notice I wasn't a person, or if he did, he didn't react at all."

Hunk shrinks inward in shock. "Was he--one of yours, or..."

"Mine, yeah, but he wasn't supposed to die anytime soon. And he wasn't dead."

"And he saw the soul with you!?"

"I don't know! He just--looked right at me and waved. There was something off about him but I couldn't tell what."

"That's super weird." Hunk straightens as his curiosity outweighs his nerves. "Have you seen him before? Have you seen anything _like_ this before?"

"No," Keith says, "and I haven't seen him since I brought him to life, as far as I remember. I was hoping you had some ideas."

Hunk shakes his head slowly. "Nope. Nothing. Did you want me to take a look?" He glances at the building behind Keith. "Should we report this to you-know-who?"

Keith glances back at the building, too. "Not yet," he decides. "It could still be a fluke. And do take a look, but only if you can do it without being suspicious. So, not right away. He's got white bangs, a scar across his nose, and a prosthetic arm; you can't miss him."

"He might not be able to see me," says Hunk.

"He saw me. We can't be sure."

"All right, all right, I'll look. Subtly." Hunk glances at the building once more. "But we should probably report it."

"We will. Just not yet." Keith sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Thanks, Hunk."

"Yeah, dude. Don't do anything stupid."

"You know me. I'd never." Keith starts off; he isn't about to go looking for the guy again, but a little trip down to Earth to check on the other spirits he knows are around here can't hurt. Maybe someone else has seen something, too.

"I mean it!" Hunk calls after him, but Keith just waves a hand and off he goes.

* * *

Shiro would not, normally, give any unknown couple he passes on the street more than a passing thought.

The main reason he does, today, is that he turns on the news and sees the face of a woman there whom he saw, just yesterday, hand in hand with a young man who looked startled and wary when Shiro had waved at them. 

Even then, it probably wouldn't have stuck with him, except that there was something _off_ about them. It was the same something that he felt from the man who he always caught watching him, out of the corner of his eye--Shiro had never gotten a good look at him. He could see he was pale, ghostly even, but if Shiro looked at him directly he'd vanish, and if he went to search he'd find no one there. This couple hadn't vanished right away; Shiro walked right by them, mere inches away. But he felt that same itch, and turned to look once he was sure they'd passed, and sure enough, moments later, they were gone, too.

And now the news says that the woman is dead--that she died probably shortly _before_ he saw them.

Shiro... well, he believes the graveyard is haunted, because if anywhere is going to be, it's there, and he's seen it himself--a massive spectral dog, wolflike and glowing. But he can't imagine why _he_ would be haunted, and why _now,_ and who's to say any of the people he's been seeing are ghosts at all?

More practically, though, is that he needs to consider whether to call in on the tip line or not, because he did see _something,_ it just... might not help. But if he's just wrong about the timing, if he's making up those feelings, being paranoid, then chances are, he saw her murderer.

He decides to take a walk to ponder it--and he can retrace his steps while he's at it, and see if that jogs his memory. His route will take him past the graveyard, too, and if he sees the graveyard dog... maybe that's a sign.

So he goes for a walk, and he passes by the graveyard, and... the dog is there, yes, but so is the young man from yesterday. They're playing, looking for all the world like a boy and a dog at the park, except they're in a graveyard and at least _one_ of them is a ghost. Shiro stops and stares.

The dog, of course, vanishes quickly, as it always does. The man pauses, about to throw a stick; he lowers his arm and looks around. He'd backed up nearly to the fence to throw so he spots Shiro immediately.

"Shit," he says clearly.

"Are you a ghost?" Shiro blurts.

It's a stupid question and he doesn't really expect an answer--either the man will disappear, and it's a yes, or he'll run or something and it's a no. But instead the man glances around, like he's checking for listeners.

"...No," he says. "Do you see a lot of ghosts?"

"I saw the dog," Shiro says carefully. Maybe he can get more answers, after all. "I saw the girl you were with yesterday. The news said she died that morning."

"Huh," says the man, thoughtfully. "So you did see her."

"...You don't know what's going on, either," Shiro realizes.

"Nope. Never happened before."

Well, at least Shiro's fairly sure he's not a murderer. The possibility remains that he's delusional, though, or else a very good actor.

The man's peering at him, though, and then he comes and steps onto the sidewalk-- _through_ the wrought-iron fence. No actor could do that.

"You haven't had a near-death experience recently, have you?" he asks, now circling Shiro slowly. Shiro wonders if he ought to feel more threatened by it, but the man just seems... curious.

"No," he says. "If you aren't a ghost, what are you?"

"A spirit," the man says offhandedly, still circling. It helps that up close, he just looks normal. Attractive, even.

"...What's the difference?"

"Ghosts used to be human." He glances toward the graveyard. "Or animals. I've always been this way."

"For how long?" Shiro turns his head as the man walks around him.

"As long as people have been here. You _really_ sure you haven't almost died lately? Or ever?"

Shiro shivers--the man has to be nearly three centuries old, then. "Unless it happened when I was very young and my family never told me, yes."

"Hm." The man stops in front of him, hands on hips, and looks him up and down one more time. Shiro shivers again. "Weird."

"This isn't... bad luck, or something, is it?"

"What? No." He pauses. "I think seeing the church grim is supposed herald your death or something, but you're not supposed to die any time soon. That's just human superstition."

Shiro opens his mouth, about to ask if _this man knows when he's supposed to die,_ but he glances aside and frowns.

"Gotta go," he says, and vanishes, leaving Shiro alone on the sidewalk again. Out of the corner of his eye, deep in the cemetery, he swears he sees his usual watcher--until the dog or church grim or whatever reappears and bolts toward the pale man, and both vanish.

One thing's for sure: the police aren't who he should be talking to about this. But maybe a medium is. He heads for home.

* * *

"Hunk!" Keith shouts as he jogs through their realm. He's pretty sure he's not busy right now, but that doesn't mean he's easy to find. "HUNK!"

"Here!" Hunk calls nearby. Keith hurries around the corner and into a copy of someone's yard; Hunk is relaxing in the hammock there with a book.

"I talked to the guy," Keith says quickly. Hunk puts his book down.

"Dude. Bad idea."

"Yeah, well, it was an accident--but we were at the graveyard, and there are like, _three_ drowned down there trying to get in now, and I need your help."

Hunk tumbles out of the hammock. "Why didn't you _start_ with that?" he sputters. "Let's go!"

They run through the town and back into life; by the time they reach the graveyard, the church grim is already fighting the drowned back. They look much like their bodies likely do, or did--bloated, discolored, chunks missing from fish or other creatures. Whatever part of them has finally washed up on shore might not be so obvious.

Ideally, someone will find their bodies or body parts and give them some kind of funeral rite--then Keith or Hunk could lead them on normally. But the time when most people would simply say a prayer over a stranger's bones is past--now they have to send bits off for forensics, have to identify the body and find the family, if there is one, if they care.

Since these ghosts have gone mad, so desperate to be set to rest that they're resorting to trying to break into a graveyard, it's likely there is no family to care. The only option left is to destroy them.

Keith punches one in its bloated face. Technically, this is the church grim's job alone, but there are a scant handful of spirits on this island. They help each other out.

"Keith," Hunk pants, now wrestling with one and looking a little queasy about it. "They're bound to someone."

When the drowned Keith is fighting lurches in for another go, he looks. It's faint against discolored flesh, but it's there, faint golden symbols slowly circling the ghost's neck.

"Who even knows how to bind a ghost these days?!" Keith gasps, going in for another blow. "Especially a drowned!"

"That's what I wanna know!" Hunk says back. He heaves and the drowned in his grasp disintegrates into silver dust; he shudders, then goes to help the grim. Keith defeats his moments later, and they crush the last one together.

"Good boy!" Hunk praises, bending to vigorously pet the grim. "Who's a good boy, Kosmo? Who's a good boy?"

"He's a church grim, he doesn't have a name."

"You are!" Hunk coos, ignoring him, and the grim pants happily. Hunk stands and the grim noses into Keith's leg for more pets.

"Bound drowned," he says, idly scratching the grim's head.

"Three of them," Hunk confirms. "They might have been murdered."

"The nixies said they haven't seen anything strange lately."

"Do you think drowning is strange to a nixie?"

Keith eyes him. "Do you think they did it?"

" _Our_ nixies? No. But they might not think it's strange."

Keith sighs. "I guess I'll go back and ask them again."

"Or," Hunk says, "I can do it, and you can go report this to the boss."

Keith makes a face.

"We kind of have to!" Hunk adds. "A human who can see you _and_ three bound drowned? It's too weird!"

"If you think so, why don't you go?"

Hunk presses his fingers together. "Because, technically, you're our regional manager, which means it's _your_ job and not mine."

Privately, Keith curses whoever decided psychopomp bureaucracy should be handled by land mass, and that tiny islands counted as such. "Fine, I'll go."

"Thanks!" Hunk's already walking away. "I'll tell Plaxum hi for you!"

"She saw me like an hour ago."

"I'll still tell her hi!" Hunk turns the corner and is gone. Keith sighs.

Better get it over with. He leaves Earth.

* * *

The wait to see Zarkon is only about an hour which, in the grand scheme of things, is actually pretty fast. That doesn't mean Keith is happy to head in, or that Zarkon is happy to see him. He barely glances up, in fact.

"Who are you, again?" he rumbles.

"Gull Island," Keith recites dully. "Off the Northeastern coast of America. My jurisdiction contains two personnel, including myself."

Zarkon glances up again, though his attention is still mostly on the papers on his desk. "Ah, yes. What is it you need?"

"A living human saw me," Keith says.

Zarkon puts his papers down. "A living human? Are you certain?"

"I had a whole conversation with him." Maybe it would've been better not to admit that, but it's too late now. "I'm not supposed to take him for a while--years. It seemed like he'd been cursed, or something, but it wasn't any sort of magic I recognized. Thought you might know."

Zarkon folds his hands on his desk and peers at Keith over his yellow-tinted glasses. "I can't say I've heard of such a thing before."

"I also saw three drowned at once while talking to him. They were bound to someone," Keith adds.

"That is not our jurisdiction."

"Weird, though. Thought it might be related."

"Doubtful."

Keith shrugs. Zarkon's gaze is getting uncomfortable. "Anyway, we thought we should just avoid the guy and report it."

"You were right to report it." Zarkon finally lifts his head to look at Keith through his glasses instead of over them. "However, you should not avoid him."

Keith blinks. "No?"

"No. Give as much of your load as you can to your colleague; I want you to tail this man night and day. See who he talks to, what he does, where he goes. It may be a curse, or it may be a ruse. Report back when you know."

"Oh," says Keith. This was about the last thing he expected. "Uh, sure, boss. Thanks."

Zarkon returns to his papers. "You may go."

Keith doesn't need to be told twice. He hustles out of there and back through the hub--avoiding the vast plazas teeming with spirits of every kind--and beelining directly back to the exit. It takes him back to his little town, where Hunk is pacing in the street just outside the door. He spins when Keith closes the door.

"What'd he say?"

"He told me to tail the guy," Keith says. "He didn't know what it was. Looks like you might be taking some of my trips."

"Aww." Hunk sags. "Do I have to?"

"I'll still take the gross ones." Keith shrugs. "He wanted me on him night and day, but that isn't... feasible."

"Literally?"

"Literally."

"That's super weird." Hunk is pressing his fingers together again. "I thought we were supposed to be, like, a huge secret."

" _Some_ people know we exist. They just can't see us. Usually.." Keith heaves a sigh. The guy was pretty, sure, but that doesn't mean Keith wants to be staring at him all the time--especially not if the guy can stare back. "Guess I'm heading down."

"Er," says Hunk, "first, can I go take a look? Because I was thinking, maybe if he can't see me, then it's just a fluke because he's one of yours--but if he can see both of us, then it's a bigger problem, probably."

Keith grins. "And you know I have a death to pick up in a few hours."

"It's a drowning child, Keith! I hate doing those!" Hunk shudders.

"Yeah, knock yourself out. I can start tailing him tonight or something."

"Thanks!" Hunk finally relaxes. "I'll tell you if I learn anything. Oh! Plaxum said they didn't see anything."

"Figures." Keith's about ready to kick back in someone's hammock, for the time being. He might as well relax while he can.

"She also says hi back."

"Noted."

"So... how do I find this dude?"

Keith sighs and rubs his face. "I dunno. The island's not that big and he stands out, just look around."

Hunk sighs too. "Yeah, okay, shoulda seen that one coming. I'll get searching."

Keith salutes and starts backing away. "Lemme know where you find him."

Hunk groans. Cheerfully, Keith turns and leaves.

* * *

Hunk is suspicious.

For as cynical as Keith can be, sometimes he doesn't see what's right in front of his nose. Like that if there's a guy who can see him and then a bunch of bound drowned show up, well... maybe it was _that guy_ they were bound to? Maybe _he_ called them?

Maybe Keith believes this guy has no idea what's going on, but Hunk doesn't, not for a second. So yeah, he wants to see if the guy can see him--but he also wants to try and suss out his intentions. Hunk's going to protect his friend, no matter what.

He starts his search at the graveyard, not really because he expects to find the guy there, but because it's a place to start. Also, he can pet Kosmo and maybe sort of groan-scream into his fur for a minute until he feels better.

That done, he considers his options. A systematic sweep of the island will only be effective at night, while most are asleep. The other spirits they know are already on guard, thanks to Keith. He doesn't know what the guy does for a living here or where he lives.

If he's _actually_ concerned about his newfound ability to see spirits, though, maybe he'll go to a medium. There are three on the island and one is the real deal; he probably won't be able to contact her in any way even if she can sense him, but it's a place to start for real.

So he heads off. The graveyard, and its accompanying church, sit atop the western peak of the island, because it was put there when people didn't know about things like groundwater pollution or basic hygiene. It's nice, though; scenic. He gets why Keith likes coming here, Kosmo or no Kosmo.

Hunk, though, likes the settled parts of the island--its narrow cobblestone streets lined with brick sidewalks, and all the little white and gray-shingled houses with their picket fences and tiny lawns full of flowers. He likes the shops, too, sometimes crammed in so tightly they open right onto the street--no room for a sidewalk. And then the richer houses, further out where there's only beach grass and sand, sprawling in the dunes. The medium lives out there, but her shop is crammed in with the rest near the marina, on a wharf, where the tourists come by ferry and stop in for a quick palm reading or such.

It's the middle of the day and it's still early enough in the fall that there are tourists clogging up everything. Hunk isn't a fan of walking through people, but he presses on to the shop, phasing right through the neon sign advertising "TAROT."

The inside is... well, kitschy. It probably has to be, he thinks, for the tourists to believe it; all the draped fabric and candles and jewels match what they _expect_ of a medium, even if the ones who popularized this stuff were probably fake. The woman in question is in the back room where literally every surface is covered in gauze, and so is she.

There's a man here, looking very out of place in a polo and slacks, and Hunk moves around to try and see his face.

"Seeing a grim is an ill omen," she's saying.

"He said that, too," says the man. He's got a scar across his nose, a missing arm and white bangs, just like Keith said. 

Bingo; got it in one.

The woman tilts her head, and looks around--she faces Hunk, though her eyes don't focus on him.

"A spirit has entered the room," she says in her rich accent. "Do you see him?"

"No," says the man, uncomfortably. If Hunk had to guess, he'd say this guy doesn't really believe what he's hearing--can't blame him, really. She may really be able to sense him but there's no way she can prove it.

"Perhaps my colleague can," she says, then turns. "Lance!"

"Coming, Allura!" 

Footsteps, and a door opens behind the gauze. A young man parts the fabric and steps through--dressed more plainly than she, but the silk shirt doesn't exactly clash with his surroundings. Allura gestures in Hunk's direction, but Lance's eyes have already set on him.

"Are you a nix?" Hunk asks, because there are only so many spirits who can pass as human and on an island, even fewer.

"...Yeah," says Lance.

"How come I've never seen you with Plaxum?"

"Uh, hold that thought." Lance looks at Keith's mystery man. "He's a big burly guy, skin darker than mine. Sound familiar?"

"...No." Mystery man's expression is rapidly shifting from confused to concerned. Maybe even alarmed. "The guy I saw was kinda wiry and pale. Long-ish dark hair. Uh... pretty eyes?"

Hunk snorts. "Oh man, I gotta tell him that when I get back. _Pretty eyes._ He saw my friend--colleague," he adds to Lance. "We don't know why this guy can see him but we're trying to figure it out, too."

"He says he doesn't know why you can see his colleague, but they're trying to figure it out," Lance repeats.

The man nods slowly, disbelievingly.

"Yeah, he totally doesn't believe you," Hunk says. "Tell him, uh. Ask him if he ever saw my colleague before he was leading that woman who was murdered lately."

Lance repeats the question. The man's eyes go wide, and he glances in Hunk's general direction.

"There's _really_ someone there?" he asks.

Lance nods. "Yep. His name is..."

"Hunk," Hunk provides.

"His name is Hunk, which if you could see him, you could tell was really fitting. Nice one."

"Thanks."

The man sits back. "Huh. Um. If I ever saw him before, I didn't notice."

Allura clears her throat gently. "From context, Shiro," she says, "it seems you saw a psychopomp."

The man--Shiro's brow wrinkles. "I don't know what that is."

"A spirit guide." Lance takes a seat and pulls one out for Hunk, too, so he sits. "They bring people in and out of the world. Right?"

"Yep," says Hunk. "But you could say it without making it sound like we kill people, because we can't."

"They can't kill people, just guide them once they're dead," Lance adds. "I gotta say, it's kind of exciting having someone with a _real_ paranormal issue in for once."

Shiro frowns. "...Thanks?"

"I'm sorry to say, I rather agree." Allura gives him a wry smile. "Unfortunately, I do have to make a living, so we'll have to cut this short. I'm going to give you my card; please give me a call after business hours. Your situation is highly unusual, and deserves more than my standard twenty minutes."

Shiro sighs. "Well, you've told me more than anyone else has been able to yet. I'll do that, thank you."

"Yeah, the other mediums are fakes," says Hunk, and Lance nods solemnly.

"Lance," Allura says as Shiro stands, "can you have a chat with this Hunk, if he's willing? Perhaps together we can get to the bottom of this."

"I'm down," says Hunk.

"Yeah, we'll do that." Lance nods to Hunk, and waves to Shiro. "See you around."

"I guess so," Shiro says, still sounding kind of bewildered, and he goes. Allura starts setting up for her next client, and Lance gestures Hunk back through the door he entered from.

"To answer your question before," Lance says as soon as they're alone, in a blessedly ordinary kitchen, "I do hang out with Plaxum and friends, but I live with Allura."

"Does she have a private pond or something?" At second glance, the kitchen has little crystals and other trinkets here and there. And a _lot_ of teacups. Only mostly normal, then.

"Private beach," says Lance. "Lots of excellent tide pools. So. Fill me in, here. This guy saw your colleague?"

"Yep. First time it's happened, ever. We've been here since people have." Hunk passes his fingers through a dangling crystal ornament. "Keith went and asked our boss if he knew anything, but he didn't. He just told us to keep an eye on this Shiro guy and see if we could learn anything."

Something occurs to him, then--that this is a nix, a water spirit, and he lives with someone who might actually know a bit of the old magic. All things considered, the ones behind the bound drowned might be _them._ And now Hunk is suspicious again.

"Hey," he adds, while Lance is still thinking about his previous comment. "Allura can sense spirits, obviously, but how strong is she? Or do you do the heavy lifting?"

"Hey, I only step in when there's actually something to be done," Lance says, pointing at him. "Like talking to you. Most people don't have spirits following them around, so it's all the same fake mumbo-jumbo as anyone else does. And anyway, Allura _could_ be strong, but there's no one around to teach her anything except her sister, and she's a wackjob."

"Not you?" Hunk asks.

"I was summoned here when I was little." Lance holds up his hands, indicating maybe a foot and a half in height. Hunk assumes it's an exaggeration. "I didn't know shit then, and I haven't learned much since."

Summoned. Hunk raises his eyebrows. "You're bound?"

Lance shakes his head and starts making tea. "Her sister bungled it. I stuck around to keep Allura safe, though, because, as I said, her sister's a wackjob. That's all. Why?"

"We encountered a bunch of drowned at the graveyard the other day," Hunk says. "They were bound to someone."

"Yeah, no, that's beyond either of us," Lance says. He picks out a tea cup and inspects it, then glances at Hunk. "We'd have no reason to do that, anyway. Honestly, I can't imagine what the point of binding a drowned is, 'cause all they do is moan and try to break into the graveyard."

Hunk shrugs. Lance is making sense and Hunk is left with no one else to blame. "I also thought it might be Shiro, but now I've seen him...."

"He couldn't magic his way out of a paper bag, yeah," says Lance. "The only other person I can think of is Allura's sister, but I dunno what her motivation is and anyway, she'd need help and every spirit I know avoids her like the plague. Probably, it's someone off the island, and the drowned just washed up here by accident."

Hunk sighs. "I guess so."

"So what does this have to do with Shiro?" The teapot whistles and Lance pours two cups; he waves a hand over his and the steam wanes. He takes a sip.

"Just timing," Hunk says. "It was a weird coincidence."

Lance shrugs. "Guess we can't rule it out as unrelated."

Allura peeks into the kitchen, then. "Is Hunk still here?"

"Yep." Lance hands her the second cup. She takes it, stepping fully into the room.

"Shiro said he's being followed since well before he saw the psychopomp," she says. "I wasn't sure if you'd heard that part, Lance."

Hunk throws his head back and groans. "Why is this so complicated?!"

"Same, buddy," Lance mutters. To Allura, he says, "I didn't, no. Does he know _anything_ about his stalker?"

"A pale man who vanishes when Shiro looks directly at him, and leaves no trace whenever he goes to search. I usually hesitate to call it a haunting when someone believes they're being followed, but in this case, it may be." She sighs. "I need to meet with my next client, but do let me know if you come up with anything."

She steps out again. Lance watches her go, then returns to his tea.

"It's nice of you guys to help like this," Hunk says.

"Money aside, the only reason Allura does the fake stuff is to find the real stuff like this," Lance says. "Also, like I said, it's exciting to do something real for once." He gulps the rest of his tea and stands. "I guess I'll go see if I can find those drowned's bodies."

"We defeated them."

"Still nice to not have body parts on the beach." Lance holds out a hand and Hunk shakes it. "Nice to meet you, Hunk."

"You too, Lance." And Hunk leaves Earth. 

He does poke around a little in their copy of Allura's shop, but it's only a copy; the drawers are empty, any writing illegible. None of it is meant to hold up to scrutiny, just to be the background of a dead person's final walk. They can't even get human books except through other kinds of spirits.

The trip wasn't a total bust, though. Shiro can't see Hunk, and somebody who isn't either of them is following him. And maybe they can mooch info off Allura and Lance if they learn anything.

And the best part is, Keith's probably finished his latest death by now, so Hunk doesn't have to do it. He'd better go update him, though; he sets off.

* * *

Keith has indeed finished his death; now he's lounging on a bench by the not-graveyard, ostensibly reading but mostly dozing. He wakes up when Hunk plops down beside him, though.

"Your mystery man's name is Shiro, and he thinks you have pretty eyes," Hunk announces. "He can't see me, but he does have a ghostly stalker, probably. And I met a nix who lives with the only legit medium on the island."

Keith stares at him. "Back up. Pretty eyes?"

"Yup. I heard him say so."

"...Huh." He's not sure what to make of that.

Hunk grins. "Guess beauty standards have changed since we started here, huh?" 

Keith rolls his eyes. "Ha ha. What's this about a stalker?"

"Yeah, I didn't find out much else. Some pale dude is following him around but Shiro's never gotten a good look at him because he just disappears. And I asked Lance--the nix--about the drowned but he said he and Allura--the medium--couldn't have done it even if they wanted to. Which _could_ have been a lie, but eh, he seemed cool."

Keith sighs and rubs his face. "So you found more questions than answers. Do you at least know where to find Shiro?"

"Nope. But he left Allura's shop not too long ago."

He should hustle, then. He stands and stretches. "Okay. I'm gonna go hunt him down."

"Have fun," says Hunk. Keith strides directly into the real world.

This means that he's back at the graveyard. No Shiro, but there is _another_ drowned, already engaged in combat with the grim.

There's also a couple of humans, probably siblings, unnervingly close by, messing with something that looks like it might be an old-fashioned tape recorder.

"Talk to us, oh spirit of the graveyard!" one announces loudly. The smaller one swats him.

"Don't yell over the recording!" she says.

Keith rolls his eyes. Ghost hunters, of course. And very close to a couple of real ghosts, though he doubts there's any way for them to really know. And... very close to a danger they're unaware of.

Keith hurries to help the grim.

The drowned spots him when he gets close and lurches towards him even with the grim growling and gnawing on its leg. Keith grapples with it for a minute, then slams it against the wrought-iron fence. It disintegrates.

"The fence just rattled!" one of the ghost hunters exclaims. Great.

"You two have _no_ idea how much danger you were just in," says a new voice. Keith turns to look; it's a young man with brown skin and eyes so blue he must be a nix. He makes eye contact with Keith and nods slightly.

"What, you mean there really was a ghost?" the taller ghost hunter asks.

"Yeah, the kind that'll kill you if you get it in its way. You're lucky you didn't."

The taller one crosses his arms. "Can you prove it?"

The shorter elbows him. "You heard the fence rattle, too. There had to be _something_ there."

"Uh, yeah. _This_ guy." He gestures at the nix, who rolls his eyes.

"What are you two doing looking for ghosts if you don't even know what you could find? Especially at an _island_ graveyard?"

"What's so special about an island graveyard?" the taller asks flatly, at the same time as the smaller lights up and rocks on her heels.

"We're trying to prove their existence!" she exclaims, ignoring the other--her brother, Keith would guess, but they're not islanders so neither he nor Hunk brought them to life--entirely. "If we can find them consistently, we can begin to classify--"

"The ghost you narrowly avoided was someone who drowned and never got a funeral. That's not a friendly kind of ghost. And you're not likely to find many friendly ones, considering there are spirits whose entire job it is to help them move on." The nix glances at Keith again. "At any rate, it's gone now."

The shorter one pouts. The taller nods.

"Of course it is," he says. "It's not like we've just seen through your ruse or anything."

The nix rolls his eyes. "Just get out of here, will you?" he says, and the taller leads the shorter away. The nix looks at Keith.

"Hey," he says. "Long time, no see. I met your friend earlier."

"Have we met?" Keith asks. He sees the local nixies fairly regularly; this one is unfamiliar.

"Yeah. You don't remember? Kinda thought something like that would stick." 

Keith shakes his head. The nix sighs.

"Whatever, bigger fish to catch. Keith, right? I'm Lance."

"Hunk mentioned you," Keith says. "You live with the medium, right? So you've met the guy."

"Shiro, yeah. I thought you were supposed to be following him around."

"Yeah. You know where he is?"

Lance raises an eyebrow. "I thought you could just poof straight to him or something."

"I could if he was _dead_." And he's wasting time chatting here. "I gotta go."

"Sure, dude. Hey, let us know if you see more drowned; I'm off to look for the bodies now."

Keith lifts a hand in acknowledgement and heads off to look for Shiro.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand thats it ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> once again: check out the [fab art](https://twitter.com/zekwing/status/1213694319909122049) zekwing drew, and, uh. yep. bye.


End file.
